


Song of the Sea

by Conduitstreetcat



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Other, Sea, Sirens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 03:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15282597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conduitstreetcat/pseuds/Conduitstreetcat
Summary: Yes, I know this doesn't look very Sherlockian, but if you read closely, you'll recognize the Irish man. And if you read *very* closely, you may recognize the other character.For my dear friend Sebastian, who gave me the siren's story and wrote their speech much more poetically than I could have done.





	Song of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leonard_mccoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonard_mccoy/gifts).



I don’t know why they sought me out.

I spend a lot of time by the sea, sitting on a rock, staring at the grey water, trying to let it drown my thoughts. My people have got used to it, have stopped asking me to take care of business, to come to the house. They just give me a cloak when it’s raining, which it does a lot; a flagon of wine to keep me warm.

I stare at the sea and ask her to take my mind. I’ve tried to let her take my body – walked down into the waves as far as I could, but she rejected me – threw me back. I tried again, but my body won’t let me – forces me to kick, to swim, to breathe.

Your body didn’t. They told you I was dead. You walked into the sea and she welcomed you with open arms. Of course she did. You didn’t taste of callousness, shame, betrayal.

So now I sit on a rock and stare at the sea and ask her to take my mind. Sometimes, it works a little bit – I stare at the horizon and feel my mind dissolve into the salty expanse – but then the cry of a gull or a gust of wind breaks the spell and I am back in my body, with guilt tearing at my ribcage.

The first time I saw them, they were sitting on the wall to my right. They were just there – I hadn’t noticed them slithering or crawling or walking up. I didn’t want to stare, it seemed impolite, but I didn’t want to ignore them either. I offered them a bit of my wine, but was declined.

The next day, they were on the wall when I got there. I sat and stared at the sea and asked her to take my mind. They were still on the wall when I left.

They’re there most days. Sometimes they are on the wall when I arrive, sometimes a bit later. Occasionally, very rarely, they will not appear until after noon, or they will leave before me. Once or twice they didn’t show for several days. I was not perturbed – yet I found myself missing their company.

The shipwrecks started soon after their first appearance. Rare in this season of calm seas, and no one thought to look for them – so I could claim what the boats carried. The first one silks and broadcloth. Then a fishing vessel – nothing of interest. A merchant carrying spices from the West Indies. I get my people to take the cargo, only keep the things that interest me close – the contents from money boxes and sea trunks – golden coins, gemstones, jewels. You would make fun of me and call me a magpie. I would hold up the bijoux in the sunlight and try to find the gold that matched your hair, the sapphire that matched your eyes, the ruby that matched your blood.

Sometimes bodies wash up – sailors, their necks torn open, their chests slashed. I carry them to the edge of the cliff at receding tide, let the sea take them again – no need for people to start asking questions.

Today, for the first time, they approached me – handed me a bread roll. I took it, then they disappeared into the sea, to return after nine hours, and sit on the wall.

“Any ships?” I ask.

~A Spanish galleon with golden doubloons~

“I’ve been wondering – does the song work on anyone? All humans?”

~All except the ones who’ve known me~

“Have you known many humans?”

~They want my song. They don’t want me~

“You are – fascinating. Dangerous. Enchanting. Don’t look away.”

~If I meet your eyes, you’ll see the darkness behind the starry orbs. You’ll see the cold mysteries of the deep sea just inches away from you. The claws in my hands, the fangs only my victims see. You’ll see the real me, and run as fast as you can, as far as you can from me~

“That’s what fascinates me. The depths, the mystery, the danger – let me see.”

Their eyes contain the depth of the ocean, the deepest darkest part, where no sunlight ever penetrates and the fish live who have no eyes. The part that humans have never seen, containing the mystery of all creation.

The fangs… so beautiful and deadly, so much better than my own flat omnivore teeth – they could bite through a windpipe without effort, even bite through bone… so strong, so lethal, so wonderful.

Claws like an eagle’s, sharp like razors, strong like diamonds, so smooth against my touch…

~You intrigue me as much as I intrigue you, Irish man. I know who you are. And you make me wonder if you know who I am. Who I once was. Time will tell. So will you, once you get close enough to see my soul. Or what’s left of it~

We walk to the water, the line where sea meets sand, stand there. The water laps over my bare feet. I stare into the eyes, just below the horizon. They show me the depths of the sea, and, finally, she comes and envelops my mind. We stand there until the tide is in. When the tide recedes, no trace is left.

I now know why you sought me out.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know this doesn't look very Sherlockian, but if you read closely, you'll recognize the Irish man. And if you read *very* closely, you may recognize the other character.
> 
> For my dear friend Sebastian, who gave me the siren's story and wrote their speech much more poetically than I could have done.


End file.
